


Too Little. (Frank Iero fluff)

by UnicornCooky



Category: Death Spells, LeATHERMØUTH, My Chemical Romance, Pencey Prep, frnkiero andthe cellabration, frnkiero andthe patience
Genre: AB/DL, CG/L, Daddy Kink, Dd/lb, F/M, Fluff, Little, M/M, Other, Reader's gender not specified, daddy dom, dd/lg, reader's little age is about three or four in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-22 07:30:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8277743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnicornCooky/pseuds/UnicornCooky





	

You fought back tears as you fell for about the fourth time today. You didn't know what was wrong with you, your center of balance just seemed to be giving up on you lately. You could not, for the life of you, stay on your feet. 

A couple silent tears ran down your cheeks as your face contorted from trying to keep them in. Then, you began to pick up the pieces of glass from the mug you dropped during your fall.

You wondered how Frank didn't hear the loud /thump!/ from your fall or the sharp /crash!/ of the glass falling, but then you remembered that he was working, and nothing could be heard over the sound of the music he was trying to make.

So when you remembered that, you threw the shards of glass away, and sat down Indian-style on the floor, and cried. 

Being little was really hard.

You knew it was a little bit of an overreaction to cry like that over a little fall, but you'd done it so much that day, and you were really little right then, and you just couldn't help it.

After about seven minutes of tears and sniffles, you stood up, wiped your nose, and went to the living room. You sat on the couch, deciding that maybe some cartoons would help you.

You let out an internal groan when Frank came bursting in just as you'd put your paci in your mouth. 

"Cmon, sweetie," He started, "Daddy's gotta go to the store and he doesn't wanna leave you alone." You nodded a little, still sniffly from your short cry, and grabbed Frank's hand. He smiled a little at the fact that you hadn't even bothered to leave your paci.

You tiredly rubbed your face, the tears having dried your eyes out and making you feel sleepy. You'd just missed slamming your hand in the door when you actually got in.

Turns out he actually needed to go to your local Sam Ash. He'd seemed to have either broken or lost every guitar pick and drumstick that he owned. 

You couldn't help but stare in awe at all the instruments when you were in the store. Your hand was still tightly gripped onto Frank's, and you hadn't thought to take your pacifier out of your mouth before you went in, which resulted in a few confused looks, but you couldn't care. 

Everything was so pretty. All the guitars and keyboards and shiny brass instruments, and oh, there was a small pink guitar with flowers and fairies on it, then another the same size that was blue and had dinosaurs–

And that's when you tripped over a rug.

You fell straight on your face, letting out a quiet whine as you rolled over. You had to stop yourself from crying once again, and your paci ended up on the floor beside your head as your face twisted up in discontent once again. Of course, it didn't take long for Frank to pick up your pacifier and pull you to your feet, but your whole body ached nonetheless.

"Are you okay, babydoll?" Frank whispered, concern practically dripping from his voice. You simply nodded. "I'll make sure not to take too long, bambino."

While it did take a little longer than you would have liked, it didn't take him as long as it normally did. So, after he got a box of guitar picks and (an actual entire case) of drumsticks, you were on your way. 

In the car, Frank put his hand on your thigh, squeezing it lightly. You sighed a little. The affectionate gesture brought you a little relaxation to make up for how bad of a day you'd had.

Of course, when you got home, Frank had asked if you wanted to help carry his things inside. You'd obviously wanted to, so he offered you the small, hand-sized box of guitar picks. That wasn't enough, though.

"No Daddy! I'm big! I can carry the sticks!" You exclaimed, making grabby hands for the case. He seemed to hesitate for a while. "Bambino, are you sure? Its a little heavy, and I don't want you to loose your balance–" You cut him off with a noise of frustration. 

He sighed, and grabbed the case of drumsticks from the backseat.

"Fine."

So he handed them to you, and you happily began to climb up the stairs.

...Ultimately getting your toes caught underneath the third step and falling onto the porch.

You literally fell up the stairs. 

The case of drumsticks fell out all over the ground, and that's when you decided you'd had enough. No more holding it in, no more tiny tears. You cried.

And cried.

And cried.

And Frank picked you up in his tattooed arms. 

"See, angel?" He said as you curled up into his chest, "This is why you need Daddy to help you, you're too little to do it on your own, sweetheart."

You blushed madly and clutched tighter onto his shirt. He carried you inside, drumsticks forgotten on the ground for now, and placed you on the couch.

He left for a bit and walked into the kitchen, and came back with your sippy, filled with apple juice, then your pacifier, now clean despite it being dropped in the grass moments earlier. He handed you the sippy and the paci, then kissed your forehead.

"Are you alright, kitten?" He asked. His voice was soft and still full of concern.

You thought it over for a moment, nodding, this being the first time today that it was sincere.

You hated to admit it, but sometimes you were just too little to do things on your own. You were glad you had Frank.


End file.
